Comeback of the Year
by Monica121
Summary: There was one problem with this whole life style of ours. I mean, it wasn’t a problem for me. It was a problem for them. People love us, I won't deny it. I mean, who could not love The Weasley Twins? But the thing is, nobody's ever gotten us.


:Enters room tentatively: Are you all preparing to kill me::ducks: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I know I haven't updated or even WRITTEN anything in months. (Okay, by the time I finished this, I'd written a few HSM fics) I'm really, really sorry. I promise an update on Someday We'll Know soon. Here's what happened: my computer broke. I knew it was about to die on me, so I emailed myself EVERYTHING I had ever written. But they just hung out in my email for 20 days without being opened because I hadn't gotten a new computer. And do you know what happened? AOL DELETED THEM! They 'exceeded the maximum day that mail was allowed to stay in the inbox' and everything got deleted! Can you believe that! So I have to re-write the WHOLE story. :( And that's kind of hard to do when my morale is so low from everything being deleted…

Anyway. Now that that angry ramble is over, the reason I am here.

It is my beta's birthday. And Lee is the best friend anyone could ever have, so this is for her, on her birthday. I hope you like it Leii, I worked super hard on it! (Okay, by the time I finished this, her birthday had been over two months ago… I'm sorry Lee! I still love you! Please forgive me!)

Disclaimer: Have you learned nothing? It isn't mine!

Just a note on the story: The narrator rambles a lot, and sometimes talks in circles, but I think that's how he'd tell the story. And also, there are sometimes things in parenthesis. Those ARE part of the story. Those are random thoughts the narrator has as he is TRYING to make his point that he feels he needs to share. And every once and a while, the parenthesis are someone else who just feels he _must _comment on the way his brother is telling the story. ;) Also, the narrator is telling his story to someone. You never find out WHO he is talking to, so just picture whoever you want.

Also: **This WAS a songfic to Sophemore Slump, or the Comeback of the Year, by Fallout Boy. So it might be a good idea to listen to that song while you read it. If you want the version WITH the lyrics in it, email me. The lyrics have been TAKEN OUT though, so DO NOT report me.**

**- - -**

Okay, so let's just say there were two boys who never grew up. Well, okay, they grew up _eventually, _but it took them much longer than most. But they figured, because of who they were that people would just get over it, and deal. No one _really_ cared how they acted. It came with the territory. With the title. They didn't used to let certain normal human emotions, things like fear, pain, sadness, affect them. They were driven by one thing: making people laugh. See, I would know. How, you ask? Well, I'm one of those boys. The name's Fred Weasley. Nice ta meet 'cha.

There was one problem with this whole life style of ours. I mean, it wasn't a problem for _me. _It was a problem for _them. _People love us, I won't deny it. I mean, who could _not _love The Weasley Twins? But the thing is, nobody's ever gotten us. I mean, no one's ever understood us. Not really. Well, I guess, in George's case, Katie does. But for me… there was no one. Yet.

Me and George, if there is one thing we do, it's really throwing ourselves into what we do. If we want to make a point, not only do we make it, but we make it in a BIG way.

Soon, I knew, people would start figuring that out though. Because up till now, no one really got it. We _were _just like everyone else. We felt things like they did.

See, WWW started when times were dark. And I don't just mean, grey times. I mean pitch freaking black times. People were scared. And for once in our lives, so were George and I. So we did what we do best; we worked our hardest to make people smile. And we actually are pretty good at it. It takes a lot to make these things, and plan them so that people won't be injured and all. But people see what they want to see, ya know?

And not to sound cocky or anything, but we really know what we're doing. Like, _totally. _We've got the potions down, and the charms. We work on our products, sometimes for months on end. And we know how to make people smile, and laugh. And somehow, we mostly get it right.

And, I guess, things work out funny. Me and George, we're pretty strange guys if you think about it. Katie she says we're smarter than people know. Which I guess is true. George and me, we read a lot, we scout around, looking for the newest ideas, we occasionally have thoughtful conversations (usually concerning whether or not we think the items in Katie's Muggle fridge are consumable), and we both have keen eyes for detail.

See, what people don't give me enough credit for is _really _listening to them. I pay attention to people. I learn what there is to know about them. When they say something to me, it doesn't matter if I'm doing something, I take the time to listen, and register what they're saying. Because that's what people _really _need. Someone to listen to them. But it isn't just having them come to you to talk. You have to pay attention to them, even if they don't know you're watching. Because in some cases, it's what isn't said that is what needs to be said the most. But I guess I can't make that point yet, because you don't even know what I'm talking about yet! Silly me, I have been talking in circles... again.

…Of course there is a point! I'm Fred Weasley, and even if it takes hours to get there, I always _eventually _get to the point. (insert George's snickering, and mumbles of "Psh, yeah right," here. Oh, sod off George). Ehem, sorry about that. So anyway. We really work hard to make people happy, ya know? I guess people need something to make them smile. We're here to give people what they want. And ya know, the shop came in good hand during the war. See, we have this talent for just _knowing _what people need to make them smile. Not to brag or anything. See there was this one time when I... Oh, wait, sorry.

Okay, okay, I know. I get off topic really easily. So lets start over from the point (Yes, we've been over this, of _course _there is a point!). The point is people don't see that we work hard to make the wizarding population happy. They see the two untamable pranksters, who live in Neverland (Not that I have ever seen Peter Pan or anything... It's not like I LIKE those Muggle Disney movies or anything. . .) and still don't know how to grow up. But that's not how we are at all. We read the newspaper, we worry about what's on the news, and we even- don't go into convulsions or anything- fall in love. Because, as I've already said, George has had a steady for more than a couple months now. And me, I've had someone in mind for a while. I've got something in the works, ya know? And, with that, ladies and gents, _aha, _we have found our point.

So yeah, before you say it, let me guess. You thought I'd end up with someone like Angelina, right? Wrong. See, Angelina was fun. She was a good friend, and was there for me for a long time. But things change. And she's pretty happy with Lee now anyway.

But this girl. I don't even know. She's just like... wow.

Of course you don't know, I suppose. I guess I'm not really making any sense again. See, this girl, I don't even like calling her a girl. She is really so much more than that. I can't call her a woman, that makes her seem so. . . old. It's a mum word, ya know? Like a word mum would use. But using girl… that just makes her seem so much younger. So we will call her. . . she. Because there is no word big enough to describe her.

She's so beautiful. And trust me; I've seen her at her worst. There was this one time, she was at the Burrow, with my sister, and she got the flu. I think that's when I first fell for her. And I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, Fred, only _you _could fall for someone when they have the flu.

Well, before I tell the story, I guess I should tell you who she is, right?

Can you tell why I can never keep an audience? No one can stand how I tell stories. It's always, "Fred, you're rambling," or "Fred, get on with it," or "Fred, is there a point to this?" And I always have to tell them- wait. I was telling a story, wasn't I? Oh, yeah, sorry, I was getting off topic again, wasn't I?

So anyway. She. Her name is. . . Oh, that's a pretty flower. Maybe I should- Oh, right, sorry. Her name.

Can you stand it?

Okay, okay, I'll tell you! Just so you don't hurt me!

Her name is Hermione Granger.

**- - -**

Woah, woah, woah! You didn't have to go and _faint _on me! It wasn't THAT shocking. Do you want me to tell my story or not? Geez. People these days.

So like I started to tell you. It started when she was staying at the Burrow for Christmas, while her apartment was being renovated. Normally, she would just visit every day, but always return to her flat at the end of the day. But this Christmas was different. Hermione took Mum's offer to come stay at the Burrow. Me, I had been living back at home since I had been such a good brother, and let George and Katie take the flat above the store. I had found a flat a few weeks before, but the owner wanted to hold onto it till after the holidays. So here I am at the Burrow, with my sister, and my brother, and his two best friends.

Keep in mind; this was before I even knew I liked her or anything. She was just Ron's brainy friend, who was occasionally a pain in the ass. And there was definitely one thing I knew for sure about her; she was a hero. She often refused to see it, putting it on one of her best friends. "If Ron hadn't..." or, "Really, Harry was the one who..." but she failed to see that she really was the one who thought everything out.

And I guess the fact that I noticed shows that even when I don't mean to, I pay attention to the little things. Yeah, me and her, I guess you could say we'd make an odd pair. But just listen.

So she was at the Burrow for Christmas and she had the flu. It was just after dinner and...

_Flashback_

_(Insert whimsical, almost dream like scene change here. Ehem, sorry, I couldn't resist)_

"Mum outdid herself," Ron said, and he rubbed his stomach.

"That's because you haven't been eating her cooking lately," Ginny said logically.

"Nah, that's not it either," I said laughing.

"Oh yeah, then what is it?" Harry said laughing as well.

"You should know. With Ron, every last meal was his best."

Everyone laughed at that. After a few more minutes of pleasant conversation, Ron looked around, and as though he just remembered his best friend was upstairs, lying miserably in Percy's old bed, (Mum was letting her stay in there, because it was much more comfortable than a cot) said, "Oy, shouldn't someone go check on Hermione? I'd do it myself, but I really don't think I'll be getting up for a few hours."

Mum and Dad were already upstairs, George and Katie, Bill and Fleur, as well as Harry and Ginny, were each wrapped up in themselves, Charlie had only spoken to Hermione on a few occasions, and Ron had made it clear he would not be going. That left one person: yours truly.

I sighed, "I'll do it."

So I went upstairs, and into the git formally known as Percy's room. On the bed, was the biggest heap of blankets and hair I have ever seen.

"Hermione?" I asked quietly.

I heard mumbling from under the sheets.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that please?" I said, trying not to laugh.

Suddenly, a big, frizzy, mess of hair popped out from under the sheets. "I said, go away Fred."

I honestly couldn't even see her face. That's how big her hair was. It was a tangled mess. And that's when I could no longer hold back my laughter.

Poor Hermione. She got so angry, and her face, the bits I could see of it anyway, was all red. "Why are you laughing at me?" She asked angrily, though it sounded rather humorous through her congested voice.

"You must-" I laughed "understand," I said, barely able to breathe, "I'm not," laughter, "laughing," laughter, "at you." I couldn't stand it. I was holding on to the door frame to keep myself standing. "I'm really sorry. I'm really not laughing at you..."

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh and collapsed back onto the bed. "GO AWAY FRED!" She yelled and then groaned, apparently having irritated her sore throat.

I just laughed some more.

"Honestly Fred, can't you grow up!" Came Hermione's congested shriek.

I just laughed, and shut the door. She was fine. Awfully congested, but fine.

As I made my way downstairs, I remembered; Hermione was supposed to take a potion every two hours.

I went and grabbed it from the kitchen, where Mum had left it for someone to take up to Hermione. But I couldn't resist making one _small_ alteration. It was too easy not to take!

I knocked again as I reached Percy's old room.

"Hermione, I have your potion." Hermione grunted. "I'll just leave it here for you then," I said.

That was supposed to be the last one until she was better, so I figured if I left it for her, she'd take it, and we'd be seeing her tomorrow morning. So I headed off to bed.

The next morning, I went to eat breakfast a little early. I didn't want to miss the show.

So I was sitting at the kitchen table, 'wolfing down' my food. (That is how Ginny described the moment to me at least), when I heard a noise at the top of the stairs. Let the show begin.

As I've already stated, I watch people. I know that every morning (at least the mornings when she doesn't have the flu,) Hermione gets out of bed, comes downstairs to eat breakfast, (yes, in her pajamas! What do you think? Do you eat breakfast in your day clothes? …Well, that's because you are strange) and then goes to get dressed and brush her teeth, etc. Meaning, until she finishes eating, Hermione doesn't even look in a mirror. She usually ties her hair back to come downstairs, if it's excessively bushy.

So anyway, I knew Hermione wouldn't look in the mirror until I had seen the effects of my handiwork.

And as she came down the stairs, Fred knew he was the only one who was paying attention.

Oh, goodness, it did turn out a bit brighter than expected… Me and George may have to work on that….

That's when the group noticed Hermione on the stairs.

"Morning 'Mione. Feeling be-" Harry began, but cut himself off to stare.

It was Ron that bellowed, "Mione, what happened to your hair!"

"My hair? What are you talking about?" Hermione asked.

"It's… It's…" Ron was at a loss for words.

"It's PINK!" Harry yelled.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked frantically.

"Your hair!" Harry yelled. "It's pink!"

"What!" Hermione yelled. She rushed out of sight, and, I assumed, into the bathroom.

I just couldn't contain my laughter for another second. I burst out in laughter. In a matter of seconds, there were tears streaming down my face.

Unfortunately for me, this was the second Hermione chose to reemerge from the bathroom.

"Frederick Weasley! What did you do to me!"

"Why do you assume -I- did anything?"

"Because you _always _do something! It's always your fault!"

"I resent that."

Harry, for some reason, choked on his orange juice after I said that.

"What's wrong with you mate?" Ron asked him.

"Your brother just _stole _my line!"

"What?" I asked confused.

"You stole my line!"

"Your **_what?_**"

"My _line!"_

I sighed in frustration as Hermione let out an aggravated shriek.

"Fred, I know you did this! Change me back!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't. It lasts for 29 hours. I'd say you'd have… 20 hours left to go. It takes about two hours to go into effect, and then after that, it must have been in for about another 7 hours… Yes, 20 sounds about rig—"

"20 more hours! Fred, Harry and Ron and I are meeting some people in Diagon Alley in—" she looked at the clock on the wall, "An hour and a half!"

"Uh, why would you schedule something for while you were sick?" George asked.

"Well, I didn't **_know _**I was going to be sick! Honestly George, you are so thick headed!"

With that, Hermione stomped back up the stairs.

"That was brilliant!" George yelled. "Did you see how well it worked? I'm thinking it was a little too bright, it could blind someon—"

"Fred Weasley! What on earth did you do to her?" My mother yelled. Oops, I had forgotten we were still in the kitchen.

"Uh, nothing?"

"Fred, go apologize. _Now."_

Uh oh. Uh, yeah, I'll at least go upstairs, thanks.

But I didn't say that. I said, "Uh, yeah, I'll be right back."

I walked up the stairs. Slowly too, for obvious reason. I mean, I rather like the fact that I have the ability to have kids, if one day I so chose.

I went into the bathroom and found Hermione fussing with her hair, making frustrated noises at the mirror.

"Uh, Hermione. I know this probably is not what you want to hear right now, but—" Oh Merlin, that got me a very, _very _dirty look. "But, uh, Ireallyhadnothingtodowiththis," I said quickly. I really wanted to get out of there.

And, of course, once she understood what I said, she didn't believe me.

So at that point, she was still Ron's pain in the ass friend, but the title got adjusted a bit, so it was now, 'Ron's pain in the ass friend who also doubled as a test subject.'

Oh, that's good… I should right that down somewhere… it's good for posterity… Where is my pen…?

Oh, right, sorry.

So I stood in the bathroom with her, watching for a second while she let out high pitched screeches I wasn't aware human beings were capable of making.

I then turned on my foot, preparing to exit what had just become the smallest bathroom I've ever been in.

"Wait just a minute Fredrick Weasley!" Hermione yelled. "We are not done here!"

"Uh… are you sure? Because I'm really quite happy where we left off and—"

"Why would you do that to an **ill **person? Are you mentally insane, or just stupid?"

Now that was uncalled for. I am _not _stupid. And I'd prove it to her. But more importantly… why _was _I so determined to do so?

- - -

I should have known she'd be after me. After what I pulled I mean. So why wasn't I more scared? I think, in a way, in my own weird-twisted-like Fred way, I wanted her to.

Its kind or refreshing, you know? To have someone succeed where so many have failed. In pranking us, or at least me, I mean.

What happened you're wondering?

Well…

- - -

It was after work, and we were all meeting at the Burrow for dinner. I knew I was late, and I had let everyone know I would be.

I was about to walk into the front door when I noticed something hanging from the top. "Hermione, Hermione, Hermione," I whispered to myself. Not that I talk to myself a lot. I mean, what kind of crazy person talks to their self? Certainly not _this _type of crazy person! Er… Not that I'm a crazy person… Aw, just forget it.

So anyway. There I was. _Not _talking to myself. I Apparated into the house.

There were calls of, "Hey Fred," or, "Nice of you to join us," but I ignored them.

"Where is Hermione?" I asked.

"Hermione? She's not here yet," George said.

Hmmm… Interesting. I know! She didn't want to be placed at the scene of the crime!

Just then, came a knock at the door. Before I could yell, "Wait, don't open it!" Ron was at the door.

He opened it, and revealed Hermione Granger.

A Hermione Granger who just walked through the door unscathed. WHAT WAS GOING ON! How did she do that? There can't just be a bucket one second and then no bucket the next.

I ran to the door, and stepped underneath it.

That's when I was covered in a very, very sticky brownish substance.

"I hope you like Caramel, Fredrick," Hermione grinned.

I stared at her, open mouthed. "I… But… You… Bucket… No Bucket…"

Everyone laughed, but I really couldn't form a sentence. How'd she do that?

"It's a little thing called Magic Fredrick," Hermione stated, obviously reading my mind. "I knew you'd walk in and see the bucket. When I came in, you'd wonder _why _I wasn't covered in whatever was in the bucket—because, oh yes, I knew you'd see the bucket—and you'd run under the door yourself, during which time I was able to perform a tipping charm, and here you are."

I gapped at her. It was fool proof. Why hadn't I thought of it?

I stepped back into the house, and as if to add insult to injury, I was suddenly covered in something very white and fluffy. Feathers.

I was immediately yelled at by my mother to either Apparate into the bathroom to clean up, or stand outside all night. I chose the former. Not before, though, Hermione took a photograph of Fred the Giant Chicken.

However, as I showered, only one thing truly registered in my mind. Besides the fact that I had been pranked I mean. Hermione said the word Carmel as _Caramel. _Caramel. I liked that.

- - -

And that's really how it started. She pranked me, and said _Caramel, _and then I couldn't get her out of my head. Strange, isn't it?

But that's what I am. Strange.

So I'm sure you are thinking now, So Fred, what was the plan? How were you going to win her over? That was the problem. I had no plan. This was different. It wasn't like I was going after someone like Angelina. This was Hermione. She wasn't even the type to use the term 'going after.' She'd probably call it something funny like courting. Hehe, I just said Courting.

So anyway. Yeah, I had no plan. But I figured, I'd just get her to fall for me. How hard could it be?

Okay, don't look at me like that. I didn't _think_it would be hard at the _time. _I figured it out later.

So I began to like someone who I figured wasn't interested. So I'd have to make her interested.

- - -

_January_

"Hey Hermione!" I said one day, when I found her sitting by the fire reading.

"What do you want Fred?" She asked, annoyed to be interrupted from her reading.

"Well, see, I needed some help…"

She shut her book, but not before tenderly marking her place.

"I'm listening."

Oh, shit. Now I needed to come up with something.

"I, uh, I… You know?"

Hermione stared at me like I was crazy. Kind of like how you look now… Don't look at me like that… It makes me uncomfortable. No, seriously, stop. Now. Seriously! Don't make me hit you… You don't think I will?

Okay, so maybe I won't.

Anyway.

So after that, Hermione became my obsession. I watched her all the time. Not in a stalker-ish way, you doof! Just like, I became really observant. I listened to what she said, watched what she did, and picked up her little mannerisms.

I noticed some things I hadn't before. Hermione's favorite colour is pale yellow. Her favorite sweater is the pale yellow one as well. She doesn't like onions, and always pushes them to the side of her plate. Whenever it was her turn to pick up food (Mum caught whatever Hermione had, and was waiting for her potion to take its course, so she didn't cook), she always picked something ethnic.

I was slowly compiling information. And my plan was soon to take place.

---

_May_

Everything was set. I took a deep breath. Now I just needed to approach her. How to do it, how to do it? If I just come up to her, and say, "Hermione, I'm taking you somewhere," she'd probably run in the other direction screaming.

So I kidnapped her.

Well, not _really _kidnapped her… More like… Okay, maybe kidnapping _would_ be an appropriate word.

So what happened was… Man, I'm hungry… I should see if the pizza place is o—Stop looking at me like that! It's not my fault I have a large appetite.

Fine, but if I die of hunger, its on your conscience.

So by now, I was very familiar with Hermione's schedule. Thursdays are her short days, she always walks to the little restaurant near by for lunch on Mondays and Tuesdays Harry and Ron always took her takeout. But on this recent Tuesday, I beat them to it.

---

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door to her office.

"Come in," Hermione called. I knew she expected it to be Harry or Ron.

I walked in, and Hermione, not looking up said, "What do we have today? Italian? Spanish? Chinese?" I was nearing her desk as she looked up. "Fred?"

I didn't say anythingbut grabbed her arm and Disapparated.

When we landed in our destination, Hermione glared at me. "Fred Weasley, what the hell do you think you are doing!"

I took a deep breath, and walked her over to where we were finally headed.

Hermione gasped. "Fred, where are we?"

I smiled, and said, "Welcome to India."

Hermione just stood there looking like a fish, her mouth opening and closing slowly.

We stood there for about ten minutes, until Hermione finally found her words.

"Fred, there are _permits _you need for this! You can't just Apparate into a foreign country on a whim! What were you _thinking? _We could get thrown in Azkaban for thi—"

And then I did something that set the wheels in motion. Hehe, I just said set the wheels I motion.

Oh, right, sorry. What did I do to shut her up? I didn't do the completely cliché thing, and kiss her. Nope, I just interrupted her.

"Hermione, I _have _permits. I sent for them ages ago."

"Are you saying you've been planning this?" Oh no, she was angry.

"I, uh,"

Suddenly, something dawned on her. "We're in India."

"Yes," I said.

"In India."

"Yes," I said again.

"As in, _India."_

"Yes, Hermione, I think we've established that we are in fact in India."

"But… _why_?"

"Well, follow me." I began to look at my surroundings. Everything had been done exactly to my description. We were, in reality, in a lavish hotel on the coast of India. When I Apparated us in, we Apparated into a very Indian-looking sitting room.

I pulled her into the dining room. But it wasn't exactly a dining room. It had been decorated to look like an outside Indian tent. There were paper lamps hanging from the ceiling, and lavish cloths around the room. It was brightly colored in vibrant purples, blues, and reds.

"Wow," Hermione says. Then she tenses up. "Fred, how can we afford this?"

I shook my head, in my attempt to be heartthrob-ish. Hehe, I got to use the word heartthrob. "Not we, Hermione. Me. I'm really good friends with the owner. I come here all the time."

"All the time…?" She said. "You've been to India before?"

"India, France, Germany, Japan, Spain. There is a WWW in about 36 different countries. But enough about that. We're here for a reason."

Hermione stared at me in shock. "Fredrick Weasley. If you think I am going to do that with you, you are—"

I interrupted her again, and as fast as possible. "Hermione! Not that! I meant, we're going to eat some _real _Indian food."

Hermione smiled. "I love Indian food."

I grinned. "I know."

For some reason, she frowned at that. "Fred, what are we doing here?"

I dragged her over to the table, where an array of food was waiting for us. But she wouldn't touch any of it. Not until she got an answer.

I sighed. I, Fred Weasley, resident British heartthrob (if I do say so myself) did not know what to say. I was nervous.

I sat down on one of the cushion things that they used for chairs (that is really the only thing I hadn't gotten used to, during all of my visits to traditional India. There seats. They're killer on my back. Oh, I'm of track again, aren't I? Sorry…)

"Hermione," I started. I sighed again. I had not been expecting to do this so soon. But I knew I had to. "Hermione, I love you."

Her eyes went wide, and I knew she wasn't expecting that.

"Fred, if this is some kind of joke, it isn't funny." Then I noticed something. Her eyes were shining. She was holding back tears.

"Hermione, what's wrong," I said, getting up from my cushion.

"Did Ginny tell you?" She asked, her voice shaking. "Or maybe you figured it out on your own?"

I stared at her for a minute. I honestly had no idea what she was talking about.

"Hermione, what are you on about?"

She looked at me angrily. "The fact that I love you, you idiot! You think its funny, bringing me here. Oh, haha, you've gotten me back now. Are we even? You get to humiliate bookworm Hermione Granger, because she has a mad crush on you! The perfect revenge! What impeccably planned retaliation! Brava!"

I didn't really register at all what she was saying. Really, I hadn't heard anything after the "I love you" part.

I stared back at her in shock. "You love me?"

Her angry quickly turned to frustration apparently. She started bawling. And trust me, I'm not so good with tears. "Hermione, why are you crying?" I say, in my best attempt to get her to stop crying.

"Because you think I'm one big joke! I didn't mean to fall in love with you! And shame on you for taking advantage of the fact to retaliate against me!"

She didn't think I was serious. She thought I was 'getting her back' for the feathers thing. I grabbed her shoulders, and did the last thing I could think of to get her to stop crying. I kissed her.

Sure, it took a little convincing. But in the end, I got her to realize that I really, really truly loved her back.

She didn't want to believe that I had changed. That I was willing to take on the responsibility of a relationship. That I'd do anything for her. That I loved her.

That was then. Now, things are going just as well. I can honestly say, I'm still as in love with Hermione as I was that day in India.

I know, as you're hearing this, you must be thinking, what happened to that Story Teller Fred? The one who gets distracted, and can't tell a story in a straight line. But when it comes down to it, I can't help but focus on Hermione. She's the reason I was even able to tell this story. If she had turned me down, who knows where I'd be now? Certainly not as happy as I am in this very moment.

I know maybe it sounds corny, or fake, or maybe even like a cop-out. But its true. I am in love with Hermione Granger. I think I always have been. It just took a little longer for me to figure it out**  
**

I'm sure you're wondering what happened to us, right? How did the prankster and the bookworm survive as a couple, right? Well, we did amazingly, if you'll believe that. We still are, actually.

It all came down to the fact that there was more to both of us than meets the eye. Hermione took a page out of my book, and even became quite the prankster. Well, that maybe be a bit of an exaggeration. I won't take it too far, I suppose. Let's just say that the feathers and caramel (ehem, Hermione made me right it that way. Its CARMEL, thank you) prank was not her most famous.

And as for me? I still observe people. It's a trait that's come in rather handy with Hermione. Its something that has helped me surprise her at least once every day. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

And as for me and Hermione together? We're doing swimmingly, thanks. She's just… wow. She says she fell in love with me the day I turned her hair pink.

She finally gave into the old Fredrick Weasley charm.

Ouch! Did you see that? Can you believe that she just came up behind me and _smacked _me? And it **was **the Fred Weasley Char—okay, okay, it wasn't the charm. Just don't hit me again!

Ehem, Sorry about that.

In the end. We gave in. To each other. And I've never been happier.

---

It's done. It's DONE. I can't believe it. This is the LONGEST a single one-shot has EVER taken me. I started it back in December, in preparation for Lee's JANUARY birthday.

I'm sad to see it finished. I've spent so much time on it, and so much time finishing it, its amazing to know that its done.

Is the India thing too random? I couldn't think of another way to do it.

Well… It's done, and I am honestly amazed. It's DONE. FOUR MONTHS of work. Complete. Wow.

And before I end this, once and for all, the old business.

Now that this is finished, I will have the new/old chapter of Someday We'll Know up SOON. I am not setting a date, because I don't want to disappoint people. My life is rather hectic, and I just don't know what to do anymore. Also, if there is anything you want to make sure I don't forget that was in the original Someday We'll Know, that you want to make sure I have in the new draft, leave it in a review, and I will make sure I remember to put it in.

And with that. I am done. Wow. I'm super proud of the beginning, but I don't know about the end.

What did you think?

And once more, to Lee, the best friend in the world, **HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY, AND I LOVE YOU MUCH MY BESTEST BUDDY!**

Love,

Monica


End file.
